To Be A Protege
by MaeJacrezz007
Summary: AU- Aaron Hotchner, head of the FBI's BAU team, is a smart, cold man that is almost never phased. So what happens when a body is left for the BAU, along with a letter from a very familiar man. (Summary sucks I'm so sorry) Rated T because of warnigs inside (Please read those)
1. Prologue

Summary: AU- Aaron Hotchner, head of the FBI's BAU team, is a smart, cold man that is almost never phased. So what happens when a body is left for the BAU, along with a letter from a very familiar man. (Summary sucks I'm so sorry)

 **Little warning things** : Gideon's a real bad dude, Reid's a bad dude, I've killed off a few characters for this (nothing too bad I don't think), drug abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, and did I mention Gideon's a really bad dude?

Also, I don't own Criminal Minds. If I did this wouldn't be Fanfiction.

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

 _Prologue_

When Jason Gideon vanished after suffering from a nervous breakdown, nobody expected to see or hear from him until he dropped dead somewhere. And that was mostly true, besides the fact he didn't drop dead. It was someone else. By the time anyone realised it though, 'someone else' had become several. Criminals, pimps, corrupt politicians. Nine were found shot to death with a large X cut into their chests postmortem. The crime scenes were clean of any evidence or DNA, and since the victims were all not very good people, most of the police and locals turned a blind eye to the killings.

Until the tenth body was dumped on the steps of the FBI with a letter addressed to 'Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner and Team'.

-LineBreak-LineBreak-

"What have we got Baby Girl?" Morgan asked, sitting down at the round table and opening the cream coloured file in front of him.

"Well my knights in shining Kevlar, it's not good." All eyes turned to look at Penelope, the normally bright and bubbly woman looking almost shocked. True, the expression was one the team was familiar with, but it usually didn't appear until halfway through a really bad case. Her chest heaved as she drew in a steadying breath, clicking the remote in her right hand as she began the debriefing. "This case was given to us about fifteen minutes ago, and details are being double checked through the system, but so far the body count is ten."

Out of all the profilers seated, Aaron Hotchner was by far the most infuriated. "Garcia why wasn't this brought to our attention sooner? Surely we could have saved someone by now."

"And that, bold leader, is why we weren't. The first nine victims were all criminals of some kind, sick puppies that the new dog 'cleaned up', as some locals reported," the tech commented, making a face as nine pictures came up on the screen. "Their crimes ranged from stealing to dealing drugs and even two corrupt politicians. All different races, different ages, and both genders, though only three were women. The only thing linking them together besides sketchy pasts is the way they were killed; shot once and then cut from their shoulders to the opposite hip." Nine more pictures came up, Garcia looking away while the others took in the bodies.

"So we've got a house cleaner," Prentiss started, flipping through the start of her file. "Might be a woman, since the areas are clean and the method of killing is detached."

"Could also be a young man, physically unable to take the victims down with his hands." Rossi added his own bit. "Lots of rage is needed to make the cuts afterwards, but enough control to not do it when the victim is alive."

"Who's the tenth victim Garcia?" JJ asked, not looking up from the page of notes she was reading.

"Elle Greenaway, 28, a cadet at the FBI Academy in Quantico. She went missing a week ago. Found this morning on the steps of our building, beaten to death and with a letter addressed to you, sir," Garcia said soberly, clicking her remote again as the profiles absorbed the information. The pictures that came up were horrifying in their contrast. On the right, a young Elle, her dark hair long and shiny to match the spark of determination in her eyes. The left one showed her body, laid out on her back. Once flawless skin matted with bruises and cuts, hair crudely chopped short, and the eyes that once shined were a dull lifeless colour and staring blankly at the sky. But unlike the others, there wasn't an X cut into her, and she was laid out instead of just dropped. "The letter connects her to the others," Garcia cut in before anyone else could speak. "There's a copy for everyone to read."

Sure enough, the last page of each file was a letter in a chillingly familiar handwriting.

 _To Agent Hotchner and Team,_

 _Hello Hotch. I'm sorry to leave you all on such short notice, but I couldn't take it anymore. We weren't doing enough. Stopping enough criminals. Keeping them away from the innocents. That's what was wrong with what we , we could profile all we'd like, and track down the UnSubs, but they don't always stay behind bars. Even if they do they still have connections and can have a certain freedom they don't deserve. That's why I struck out on my own. There's nine filthy excuses of human beings I've fixed already, and the list of coordinates is attached. That new techy girl should be able to track them down easily enough._

 _They were all evil. Men and women who ruined innocents' lives to make their own disgusting ones. All except for Miss Greenaway. I apologize for the rude delivery of the letter and her, but I couldn't have her rotting away in some alley. She's special. An innocent that was ruined, but still fought to make herself better and to help protect the other innocent people out there. She was training in Sex Crimes, specifically the children's division. Such a strong young woman._

 _I watched her for a while, and thought she'd be a good candidate to help me, but during she died during the process. It was her stubbornness that killed her, and a too fiery spirit. It's a shame. If she had tapped into her energy right she'd be an almost unstoppable force. Give my condolences to the family if you would._

 _I apologize, Aaron, because I know this has probably made your job harder. I won't stop though. I have to finish this._

 _Respectfully wishing you all well,_

 _Jason Gideon_

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

The killings continued. Every Friday, Hotch got the new file. A criminal of some kind, shot once with a handgun (Gideon's old gun, they found out after ballistics) and cut from both shoulders to the opposite hip. Still no DNA. And there was another pattern. Five criminals would be killed, from all over the country, and then an FBI cadet. There was always a letter that explained why the cadet was chosen and why they 'failed'. The names of the criminals blurred together, but Hotch remembered all the cadets. Elle Greenaway. Ashley Seaver. Grant Anderson. Jordan Todd.

Then, almost twenty weeks after the first letter, it all stopped. The BAU waited nervously for the body of another cadet to be reported, but nothing came. One day turned into two, into a week, into two weeks. Still nothing. The team almost started to relax, hoping that maybe Gideon had died.

One month, two weeks and a day, the next body was found. A small time drug dealer, seemingly tortured for days before shot once in the head. A large X was cut into his torso, and a note was found with four simple words.

 _I found my protege._

A/N: So I started this because I wanted to read a fanfiction like this, but I didn't find one I liked so I decided to write my own! Yay (let me remind myself that it's two in the flipping morning and I haven't had a full six hours of sleep in about four days). *Sigh* And I'm sorry I'm such a sadist, killing Elle and Seaver and them, but I'm too lazy to think of names and it fits. This story isn't beta read, and it's typed in Google Drive so if you see an error, please don't be an ASparaguS. All praises and flames will be given to my muse, and either turned into fuel for the story or for my fireplace.


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you to eneryone who's already reviewed or followed this story! I hope I can finish it and make it worth you guys' while!

To .144, your question will be answered! (I hope)

Chapter 1

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

 _It was dark._

 _So very, very dark._

 _He hated the dark._

 _The fogginess in his head was just as frightening. It was like someone poured honey into his thoughts. A poisonous honey, eating away at the strands of reason until all that was left was a cobweb of confusion and fear._

 _A light opened in the dark, and the silhouette shown in the welcomed brightened made him whimper._

 _The silhouette didn't react, creeping forward to caress his face in a loving manner. "Don't cry son, you're doing so well."_

 _The gag in his mouth muffled the scream that tried to escape as a knife cut into his skin._

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

"We have to rethink the profile now," Morgan said as the team gathered in the round table room. "Gideon's not working alone now, and the only reliable pattern we had was him killing an FBI cadet."

Rossi sat down heavily in one of the chairs and watched as Morgan paced a bit before commenting, "But now that he has his 'protege', he won't need to kill any more cadets. A blessing and a curse."

The team as a whole looked shaken, with Morgan pacing, JJ nervously playing with a bit of her hair, Rossi and Prentiss sitting quietly while obviously compartmentalising, and Garcia was busy fretting over her computers like a hummingbird.

The only sign of nerves on Hotch's face was the line showing between his eyebrows. "Alright let's look at this as if it's a new case. We know Gideon is the dominant partner in the relationship, and believes he is helping the world by getting rid of the criminals. The cadets were all found beaten and drugged, so we should assume he's not afraid to hurt or kill one of us. He may even enjoy torturing his victims now and could be abusing his partner."

"The partner is most likely younger," Prentiss added, thinking out loud. "A submissive type that's going along with what Gideon says. They're probably quite compared to Gideon and with less intelligence. That'd make them easier for Gideon to control."

Rossi tapped a pen on the table and nodded. "Maybe, but we can't rule out them being intelligent. Gideon may be crazy now, but he'd always get irritated when he had to dumb himself down to talk to someone. And considering Gideon called the partner a protege, they might be as smart as Gideon."

Hotch nodded, silently proud of his team. "So it could be something else Gideon is using to control them. Morgan, Prentiss, I want you both to go to the morgue, ask the medical examiner everything about how the cadets were killed. JJ go talk to the media, get this under control before it gets any ground. Rossi, you and I will go to the Academy, find out if anyone's went missing or had a sudden change in behaviour. And Garcia I want you to search through the local murders within the past month and a half. If he's training his partner, they wouldn't have gone far. Let's go." And the BAU was off.

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

"Come on kid, you have to play."

The voice was friendly and even, but he could tell the threat hidden behind the words. He looked down at the table top, then up at the man. "I don't want to." His voice, in comparison, was small and childlike, his fear evident to the man.

"If you don't play, you lose and I win. And if I win..." The man trailed off and looked at him.

"If you win I get cut, but if I win I don't get cut," he replied, almost automatic now.

A hand ruffled his hair, crudely cut short by a pair of scissors. "Good boy. Now, your move son."

He swallowed but nodded, looking down again. Tightening his hold on a small knife, he slowly begins to cut the tied up man on the table, ignoring the muffled screams. Looking at the man standing across from him, he smiled a little shyly. "Your move Jason."

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

Outside of the FBI Academy, Hotch and Rossi stand off to the side on four way call with the rest of the team. "Rossi and I haven't found out much. Based on his past behaviour Gideon probably took the cadet on the day of or right after graduation. There's a list of names I'll get sent to you Garcia, but it'll take time to track them all down," Hotch explained, glaring at his cell phone like it was the one that made the long list. "JJ, Morgan and Prentiss, what did you all find?"

"Not much," JJ's voice was distracted, as if she was looking at something else at the same time. "The media has picked up on the fact that someone was killing cadets, but it hasn't spun out of control. Barely mentioned and I'll make sure it stays that way."

"We've got nada on our end." Morgan stated, running a hand over his shaved head. "It's the same as last time. All the cadets were subjected to torture for about a week, their hair cut to about an inch, and drugged. Killed by a single stab through the heart."

"Actually, there was something." The shuffling sound of papers could be heard before Prentiss continued. "The medical examiner did a tox screen, and it came back with high levels of hydromorphone, or dilaudid."

Rossi nodded next to Hotch. "Drugstore heroin. That could be how he's controlling them. Getting them h-"

Rossi didn't finish. A sudden beep was heard over the lines followed by Garcia's manic typing. "Oh my. A body has just been found dumped on the road heading to Quantico, about ten minutes away from Hotch and Rossi. Let me see..." There was more typing heard as the team waited for their tech genius. "White male... Mid thirties-ish... Large X cut postmortem and... Oh my bunny, that's just..."

"Baby girl what's going on?" Hotch could almost see the worried look on Morgan's face since it was plain enough in the man's voice.

"There are cuts all over his back. Well, carved. Sets of numbers and letters. I sent a picture to all your phones. PG out my wonderful agents." And with that hurried farewell the lines all went dead.

Hotch wasted no time to pull up the picture, but a few seconds of silence later he handed the phone to Rossi. Curious, the Italian looked down at the device and sucked in a breath. "Well I'll be damned. You know what this is too right?"

"Chess coordinates," Hotch said with a nod, grim faced. "They played a game of chess and carved it into his back."

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

Gideon looked into the darkened room, smiling slightly to himself. The boy had played along and their game had ended in a stalemate, but it was better than the boy losing. As a reward Gideon had put a small nightlight in the room, so the boy wouldn't have to sleep in complete darkness.

Sighing almost contently, the ex-profiler entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. The boy wasn't asleep, and watched Gideon with hazy eyes and a lazy smile.

"You did good son," Gideon praised, ruffling the boy's hair. "But it's time for bed now. Are you ready?"

A silent nod, and the boy offered his left arm. Immediately Gideon filled a small needle and inserted it into a vein, watching as a smile crawled onto the boy's face and those big brown eyes slid closed. "Goodnight Jason," the boy mumbled, curling up and drifting into a high induced daydream.

Gideon chuckled and walked out, locking the heavy metal door and leaving the drugged boy shackled to the bed. "Goodnight Spencer."

 _-to be continued...-_

A/N: Please don't hate me for all this. I love Spencer as much as the next fan, but it gives me a very sick pleasure to make him a bad guy. There is reasoning though! It should all be explained later (hopefully...). All reviews and comments are welcomed, and flames will be used to grill me some hamburgers.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

 _It was dark._

 _So very, very dark._

 _Spencer hated the dark._

 _He was used to the fogginess in his head by now. The sweet, thick, honey like feeling that seemed to make everything better. When the fog lifted Spencer always felt worse, reality crashing in around him with so much intensity it made him shake._

 _It was reality making him shake, wasn't it?_

 _The darkness was lifted when the door opened, and Spencer watched curiously as a man came in and gently ruffled his hair._ This man is familiar, _Spencer sluggishly thought._ He makes reality go away.

 _The man pulled a chair and sat down in front of the one Spencer was sitting in, a knife in his hands. "Good morning Spencer, did you sleep well?"_

 _Spencer nodded, knowing the gag in his mouth would silence him._

 _The man smiled and then reached out and removed the gag, making a small cut on Spencer's cheek as he did. "Good. Do you know who I am and why you're here?"_

 _Oh! Spencer knew this one by now. "You make me feel better and protect me from the outside." Spencer's voice seemed to be raspy and slurring at the same time, which made him smile at the funny though._

 _The man smiled at the answer and ruffled Spencer's hair again. "That's right. Because of that, you only get ten cuts today."_

 _Hope bloomed in his chest._ Only ten! _he thought joyfully, and barely flinched as the blade dug into his already marred skin._

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

"I'm glad you guys are here, 'cause I honestly have no clue what to do with this guy." The medical examiner smiled tightly at Hotch and Rossi as she lead them into the morgue. "Your liaison already spoke to me, so I'm making sure this stays under wraps."

Hotch nodded. "Thank you ma'am, we appreciate that." The doors to the morgue opened and the trio was greeted with a cold blast of air and the smell of disinfectant. Out of the three tables, only one was occupied, and that was the one the living went to.

The medical examiner pulled back the white sheet, exposing the shell of a man that had been beaten severely before death. "Meet Andy Jensen, IDed by dental records just this morning. Like your others, he shows signs of being held for at least five days and being beaten repeatedly. Based on his stomach contents, Mr. Jensen here wasn't fed for the duration of his captivity. Cause of death though was actually an infection." Both agents looked at the doctor, and she smiled in an almost amused way as she handed Hotch a file. "The, um... The cuts on his back. The killers' sick game was stopped about halfway through, and the wounds show signs of treatment. Good treatment, even though the guy still kicked the bucket," she joked, even though a morgue wasn't really the most common place for jokes. But hey, she worked with death everyday, and if you couldn't joke about life and death, what was there to joke about? Seeing the two suits busy looking through the file and over the body, she smiled politely. "You two holler if you need anything, I'll be in the other room." With that, the two FBI agents were alone.

Andy Jensen was their sixth victim in three months, a new body being reported every fifteenth and thirtieth like clockwork. Before Jensen, all the victims had died of dehydration after almost a week in captivity. Each "game" on their backs had so far been completed, with Jensen being another exception, and the BAU was still trying to find someone who could go through the moves faster than JJ or Garcia. There's only so much a computer can do, so the team was only halfway done going through the fourth set of chess moves.

Since he was paying more attention to the body than the folder, Rossi slipped on a pair of latex gloves and gently rolled the body over to see the markings better. "If we think of the cuts as handwriting, then Gideon's is the one that has stayed consistent, and this protege of his is the one that's gaining confidence. Look Hotch," Rossi pauses to point at the photos in the folder, one from the first victim's back and then at Jensen's. "There's a lot of hesitation in these, the letters and numbers are all made with shallow, straight cuts."

Nodding, Hotch keeps his expression stony as he looks at Jensen's back. "And the recent ones are smoother and deeper. He's not only getting less hesitant during the mutilations, he's getting better control of the weapon." Hotch scans the report from the medical examiner, relaying the information to the other profiler. "Jensen had a compromised immune system, and it looks as if Gideon and his partner picked up on the fact he was sick shortly after he got infected. The examiner couldn't tell when he was infected, because Gideon drained the wounds and kept him from dying immediately. They kept him alive just so they could watch him die slowly from the sickness."

The senior profiler made a disgusted face and recovered Jensen with the sheet before both he and Hotch left the morgue with a quick goodbye to the medical examiner. "So the partner is learning how to kill from Gideon, and also how to enjoy the torture they inflict."

"Not necessarily. It could be that if they don't assist in the acts, they themselves will be tortured. To save himself they kill someone else."

Rossi makes a noise that could be interpreted as agreeable as they get into the black SUV and start towards the BAU, silence an unnoticed passenger while both agents think about all the possible scenarios dealing with the case.

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

 _Snap!_

In rural Virginia, in a cabin nestled deep in the woods, the silence that followed an echoing snap was tense and fearful, jabbing at Spencer impatiently. The silence hurt deep inside his body, a throbbing ache that mirrored the burning along his skin.

"Well?"

Spencer cowered down a bit more and inwardly shuddered. Oh, if only silence was the only one impatient with him. Jason was angry. _Very_ angry. And with the drugs he'd been given, it was difficult to figure out why. "I don't know," he whimpered. It was a pathetic sound, something between crying and hysterical with a bit of brokenness.

 _Snap!_

The belt came down hard against Spencer's bare back and shoulders, raising an ugly red welt that looked so similar to multiple scars. Spencer cried out, tucking his lanky frame into as much of a ball as physically possible and protecting his head with his hands. Another snap rang out and this time Spencer cried. Third time's the charm after all.

Jason was not any happier with Spencer, and he stood above the cowering younger man with an unshakable and intimidating presence. "Spencer, I will only ask one more time, why did you turn on the radio?"

Spencer's tears eased only slightly once he knew what Jason was asking before. "I wanted to hear new voices. I got lonely when you went away and the books were too far to reach."

It was true. Because Spencer had been behaving well, he was rewarded with a little freedom. When Jason went out to get groceries, Spencer was moved from his room to the living room. On his left ankle an iron shackle sat snugly, and when he was moved from room to room Jason simply attached the different chains in the rooms to it. The one in the living room that Spencer was on was five feet. Enough room for him to stand and even curl up by the worn lazy boy chair if Jason wanted to watch a movie.

The books in question were about two feet out of Spencer's reach, but the radio had been right there. Usually Jason only allowed him to listen to it at certain times, but the silence had been making him itch. Jason watched as the boy picked at his arms unconsciously, and sighed before dropping the belt.

"I'm sorry son, I shouldn't have hit you with the belt," he said, lowering himself into the lazy boy.

Spencer -no longer in immediate danger or paralyzing pain- slowly shuffled out of the corner and sat on the floor to Jason's left, Latin his head on the arm of the chair. "It's ok, I deserved it. I should have known better than to turn on the radio without your permission."

A hand ruffled Spencer's hair and he smiled a little before closing his eyes, Jason watching as the boy fell asleep on the floor. "Such a good boy," Jason praised, smoothing Spencer's growing hair down. A smile curled at the ex-profiler's lips, silently proud of how far his protege had come.

The boy had been found like the other cadets, but when Jason talked to him there was something different. He was so much younger than his peers, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn't there for shits and giggles. The innocence Jason was striving to protect had been shattered in the boy, then taped crudely back together and hidden under a layer of bravado. That had been so easy to break. Unlike Elle or Anderson, the boy -his boy- had proved to be strong enough to go without the bravado. And after all that fake courage was gone, the boy reached out to Jason on his own! Sure, the drugs made the boy quite, but he seemed so much happier with Jason. Never again would the boy suffer at the hands of tormenting peers or be alone. Jason would be there, protecting him and showing the boy how to be strong. _His_ boy.

 _-To be Continued-_

 **A/N** So I guess I'll take this time to say that I'm so sorry for the way this chapter turned out and that it's so late. You would not believe how hard it was to power through this section of plot, but I don't think I could have skipped right over it. Acton will pick up again in the next chapter, so please be patient with me! Also going to say that please remember Spencer is almost always on drugs now, since Gideon can control him easier that way, and that Gideon's little viewpoint is very messed up because he's nuts here. Read and review please!


	4. Chapter 3

Warnings and disclaimers: This chapter will be describing torture, and while it might not be enough to turn your stomach it might make young children flinch.

Also keep forgetting to put this but I don't own CM and am making no money here!

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

Chapter 3

 _It was dark._

 _So very, very dark._

 _Spencer didn't like the dark._

 _He didn't like a lot of things now, but Jason was taking him out of his room! There was a surprise waiting for them in the basement apparently. It made Spencer excited and a little less afraid of the blindfold-induced darkness._

 _When the cloth came off and light poured into his eyes, Spencer was standing in a large open room that he'd never been in before, and someone else was down there. It confused him, and made him scared. Jason had said not to trust anyone but him, and the man hanging by his wrists from the ceiling certainly wasn't Jason._

 _"This is your surprise," Jason's warm, comforting voice cut in through the ever present fog in his brain._ Was it always there? _Spencer asked himself, straining to sort through any thoughts. He couldn't remember._

 _"He's a bad man." This pulled Spencer's limited attention to Jason, tilting his head slightly and cowering down. Being bad wasn't a good thing. He knew if he was bad he's get cut. Jason smiled a warm smile and ruffled Spencer's long, uneven hair. "Don't worry son, he was bad. You weren't. But he hasn't been punished yet, so it's our job to do it."_

 _Spencer's mind sluggishly processed the information and he nodded, looking down at the knife that was in his hands. When did he get Jason's knife? He couldn't think about it though, since Jason's hands laid gently on his shoulders and pushed him to the hanging man._

 _"I'll teach you how to punish the bad people, don't worry boy."_

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

In every rule book ever written for the FBI, agents weren't supposed to work cases if they were personal. A former boss becoming a murderer probably counted as too personal. It was against regulation for Hotch's team to even glance at the crime scene photos, let alone be leading the investigation. The case hit too close to home for them, and by every guideline out there they couldn't work on it.

Then again, the BAU A team probably never got a copy of those rule books, and Strauss seemed to have misplaced hers long enough for Hotch and his team to investigate.

There was an entire conference room set up for Gideon's case, with four cork boards covered in maps, photos, and copies of Gideon's letters. Two white boards set in one corner of the room, mainly empty besides the chess moves, and the rest of the room was full of boxes and files, documenting all of Gideon's victims and everything they knew about them. Gideon had a white board dedicated to just him, his profile written in Expo next to a rough timeline of what happened during his disappearance. The table was clear in the middle of the room, and six federal agents sat around it, reading the files in front of them or staring at the evidence around them.

Clearly the most agitated, Morgan stood up and paced the length of the room. "Jensen had to throw them off," he thought out loud, drawing attention. "Maybe he was still killed in the same time frame, but the ritual is messed up now."

Prentiss nodded and closed her file, turning her chair to follow Morgan. "They're going to escalate. The next one will be more violent, to compensate for the failure Jensen was."

"So I'm Gideon. I'm organised, precise, and in control." Morgan's pacing slowed to a stop and his mind seemed to wander as he slipped into the role of Gideon. "Everything I do is for a reason, and turns out how I want it. These victims are just scum to me, insignificant humans that make the world worse by existing."

"The innocent," Rossi said aloud, watching Morgan and then looking towards the cork board with the FBI cadets. "You think you're protecting them. Maybe even believe you can be the vengeance for the innocent ones you think have been lost."

"I believe I'm saving my protege. An innocent life that was ruined, but that I can fix. I'll teach them everything I can, so they can protect themself and others if I'm not around." When Morgan began pacing again, he straightened a file on the table. "I've made sure they're under my control. Made them dependent on me and just as meticulous in what they do."

Hotch finally stood from the head of the table and leaned against it. "But that's all we know about the partner. They're controlled, and at this point we should assume they are actively participating in the tortures. Maybe they're doing it out of self preservation, but with the amount of time Gideon's been able to put into the partner... Garcia, how long has it been since Gideon took the last cadet?"

The tension in the room increased, and Garcia ducked her head down to type at her computers for a second. Everyone in the room saw her swallow, and Morgan moved to her side as a comforting presence. When she looked up and spoke, her voice was quiet and meek. "Almost five months, sir."

Silence took the place of tension, shock flickering between the BAU teammates before anger and frustration took it's place. "I want this case solved, and I want it solved yesterday."

Hotch's word was law in the conference room, one the BAU was very familiar with and very willing to follow as they jumped into action.

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

The chain had been taken off in the basement. It wasn't always that way, Jason mused as he sat on the steps, but the boy was getting a lot better so he got free reign in the playroom. Well, as long as Jason was there.

Jason watched as Spencer walked around the center of the room. Around the pathetic excuse of a human hanging from its wrists. It begged his boy to free it, but even with his hands free Spencer didn't react. The young man looked to Jason and had something close to excitement in his cloudy eyes. "What's this?"

Jason smiled from the steps. "It's a present. You've been so good, and without you the last one would have broke too soon." He pulled his knife from its sheath on his belt and held it out to Spencer. "You can play with it first."

The look on Spencer's face was a cross between amazed and thankful as he took the knife. His dark hazel eyes flickered between the blade in his hand and Jason, unsure. A smile and nod from the older man made Spencer relax as he turned to the one hanging from the rafters.

This one wasn't gagged, but Spencer had learned how to block out the screams and pleas. It was shirtless and male, but honestly that didn't matter. Not really. They were all the same on the inside, and bled the same. Like Jason said...

"You're disgusting." Spencer's voice was cold and even as he walked around the man. Through the haze of opiates, Spencer's mind calculated where the veins were. Where the arteries were. Where the pain sensing nerves were and how far down he could go before the man broke. Spencer stopped behind the man, where his range of vision was blocked, and slowly drew the knife along the base of his skull. A long, slow scream echoed throughout the playroom as blood welled up from the separated skin and spilled slowly down the man's neck. Small flicks of the knife were made as Spencer circled to face the man again, not enough to make him scream but enough to make him flinch.

Not bothering to hear the man's sobbing pleas, Spencer continued making small cuts, digging the blade in deeper. He cocked his head to the side, expression still coldly blank, and without warning cut the man from his armpit down to the bottom of his ribcage. On the side lines Jason smiled at the scream, watching as his boy cut the same line again, again, going deeper, spreading the skin and muscle open wider. The blade made a soft scratching against the bone, like someone dragging their fingers on a rough sheet of paper. The man's screams turned into sobs. That wasn't good, and Spencer frowned before looking at the man's face.

"You can't cry," he said. The lifeless tone of voice made the man's breathing catch, and then his eyes widened in horror when Spencer grabbed his jaw. "Crying makes you weak. But I can help, because punishment will make you strong." The blade appeared in the man's vision and he screamed, Jason grinning in the background. Screams continued for several minutes before they fell silent, the man hanging unconscious and Spencer standing in front of him, using the tip of the knife to poke the man and make him swing slightly.

Deciding that playtime was over for the day, Jason stood on the steps and called to Spencer. "Come on son, let's get upstairs. You can eat with me in the living room after such a good job." A smile crossed the younger man's face and he all but skipped to Jason, handing the knife over as Jason ruffled his hair. "Go on up, I'll catch up. Just put your chain on in the living room," he said, waving Spencer up the stairs with a grin.

When the boy was gone, Jason cast a look at the hanging body. It was bloody, messy, but perfectly done. His boy didn't have a drop of blood on him or his clothes, and based on the slow rise and fall of it's chest the scumbag wasn't dead. It was impressive, and Jason was sure to reward his boy later for such a good job and the creativity. That side wound was just deep enough to catch a glimpse of ribs and just wide enough that Jason could have traced his finger down without touching the sides, plus there was just the right amount of bleeding. No major blood vessels snagged.

Reaching down in front of the body, Jason picked something small off the floor, rolling it a few times between his thumb and index finger before he casually threw it into a corner. As he went upstairs and shut off the basement light, Jason grinned, replaying the last set of screams in his mind.

Who knew you could still scream while your lip was being cut off?

 _-LineBreak-LineBreak-_

Three teams were in the conference room. One was five of the BAU members. The other two teams were on the table, armies of black and white on a monotone battlefield. Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ all stood stooped over the chessboard, going through the moves and trying to profile based on the moves made. Sadly for them, only three agents knew how to play the game, and those three could only understand how the pieces moved on the board, not understand why the player would do that.

From a corner of the conference table, Hotch watched as his agents glared at the game and Morgan as he read a file. They were getting nowhere fast. There was still no DNA evidence, no physical evidence to build a solid profile for the partner, Hell there wasn't even a good victim type. All they had were a pile of files and several unsolved games of chess. Again, getting nowhere fast.

Having enough, Hotch slammed his own file down and stood up. "We're going to need some help with this. Morgan, I hate to say it but call Garcia. She needs to find us a chess master."

 _-To be continued...-_

A/N: So yeah. Spencer actually cut off the guy's lip. If you've ever bit your lip while talking or eating it's probably just like that only about a gazillion times more painful and with a lot of blood. Simply put it doesn't sound like fun, and I feel a strange sense of disgust and enjoyment that I wrote it.

Sorry it's so late! Time is a terrible concept that may not even apply everywhere and certainly doesn't like me. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and I would love comments and feedback! Thank you to everyone faving this, following, and you five wonderful people who reviewed!


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